


Good Company

by fmpsimon



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, jeankasa - Freeform, springles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: Jean was not any good at consoling people, but Armin tasks him with keeping Mikasa company on the anniversary of Eren's death.





	

                Jean Kirschtein walked slowly down the hall.  The old farmhouse was dank and smelled of smoke.  What was left of Levi’s and Hange’s squads was here.  It was rare that they had any downtime, so most of them didn’t quite know what to do.  Jean and the others had spent most of their time cleaning and taking turns on the watch.  Although they had been at the farmhouse for a few days, now, it still wasn’t clean enough for Levi.  He clutched a bottle of liquor in his clammy hand.  He had found it while he and Conny were searching the house for provisions.  Every footstep echoed as he walked, but his heartbeat, which drummed loudly in his ears, drowned out every other sound.  He reached the end of the hall and stopped, staring at the dark wooden door, slightly ajar.  Warm orange lamplight fell over his boots.  After taking a deep breath, he knocked softly at the door and, after a moment, let himself inside.

                Mikasa looked up from where she sat on the bed.  He gave her a sheepish look.  “I thought you might want some company.  And…this might cheer you up a little,” he said, holding up the bottle.

                “Oh.”  She pushed her hair out of her face.  It had gotten longer.  He wondered when that had happened?  Had that much time really passed?  He self-consciously pulled at the back of his own hair, which hadn’t been cut for months.  “Where’s Armin?  He was supposed to—”

                “Hange cornered him to talk tactics,” he said with a wry smile.  He paused, biting his lip, trying to gauge the situation.  “If you’d rather be alone, I can go—”

                “No,” she interrupted him.  He blinked and she forced a small smile.  “I _could_ use the company.”

                Jean sat down next to her and leaned back against the wall.  He fidgeted, unsure of what to say.  When Armin had asked him to make sure she didn’t spend the evening alone, he had thought nothing of it.  He could do that.  No problem.  But now that he was here, he had no idea what to do.  “Erm, would you like some?  I’m not sure if it’s any good.  Conny and I found it earlier.”

                She snatched the bottle from him, swiftly uncorked it, and took a long swig.  A few drops missed her mouth, and she wiped her face with her sleeve.  “Not bad,” she said honestly.  She offered it to him, and he took a drink.  It was strong, and he wasn’t much for alcohol.  He coughed.  “Try not to drink too much at once.”

                He had another sip.  The liquor still burned his throat, but it went down a little more easily, and he didn’t cough.  He took another long drink before handing the bottle back to Mikasa.  It helped with his nerves.  Before long, the liquor was nearly gone.

                Mikasa clutched the bottle, her knuckles white.  “Armin didn’t want me to be alone tonight because, one year ago, I lost Eren.”  Jean stared at her, looking for some clue of how to proceed, but her eyes were hidden behind her dark bangs.  “I miss him,” she said at length.  “It hurts… _here_.”  She clutched at the fabric at her breast.  Tears fell into her lap and her voice broke.  “It feels the same as it did a _day_ after it happened…and it will probably feel this way ten years from now.”

                “You know the pain doesn’t go away,” he said slowly.  “It only…gets easier…day by day.”  He sighed.  “You know that, Mikasa.”

                She nodded and more tears slid down her cheeks.  “I know.  But it’s not getting any easier.”  She tipped the bottle back into her mouth.

                “Easy,” he said, grabbing a hold of it.  His fingers brushed against hers and he quickly pulled away.  He blushed and took a swig.  “Let’s talk about something else.”

                She frowned, wiping her eyes.  “What is there to talk about?”

                He put his hands behind his head.  “I don’t know.  We might die tomorrow,” he said casually.

                “What else is new?”  She glanced up at him, then turned back to her hands in her lap.  She sighed.  “Maybe we could just…sit here.  We don’t need to talk…if that’s okay.”

                He lowered his arms, eyeing her.  “Sure.”  This wasn’t surprising, coming from her.  She had never been a great conversationalist.  He leaned forward, mimicking her, and folding his hands in his lap.  What was he _doing_ here?  This was crazy.  _Damn it_.  Cautiously, he slid his arm around her shoulders.  He felt her tense up.  He couldn’t blame her.  He was stiff as a board too.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I’m not really good at this.”

                “At what?”  Her dark eyes flicked up at his.

                “Being good company,” he admitted.

                “Me either,” she said.  She relaxed slightly and leaned into him.  He told himself it was the liquor that was controlling her body.  She would never press herself against him if she were completely sober.  He wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating.  He wrapped his fingers snug around her shoulder, finding that she fit perfectly.  Her body radiated heat, and he wanted nothing more than to soak it all up.  But his brain had other plans.  He felt anxious and, although he tried to ignore it, he just couldn’t believe that Mikasa Ackermann was this close to him.  They had been through a lot together, yes, but seldom had they shared moments alone like this.  Because of Eren.  Eren had always been there.  He froze, thinking about the boy that had been their last hope.  It had been a year since he had been killed, but it still weighed heavily on all of them, especially Mikasa and Armin.  She had only recently opened up to him.  Maybe it had been out of desperation, or maybe it was just pure loneliness.

                “I know I’m not quite what you had in mind,” he began.  “After all, Eren and I didn’t exactly get along.”

                “Jean.”

                “And you’d probably rather have Armin here,” he went on.  “I’m definitely a poor substitute for him.”

                “Jean,” she said, a little more loudly.  She wanted him to stop.  Why wouldn’t he just shut his mouth?  God, what was wrong with him?

                He rubbed his forehead with his free hand.  “I mean, we’ve only known each other a few years.  That hardly compares the lifetime you two’ve—”

                “Jean!” she nearly shouted, whirling around and grasping his face with her hands.  He gaped at her, lips parted.  What…was she doing?  They stared at each other for a moment, then her cheeks flushed and she removed her hands.  She turned away.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

                “Me too,” he whispered.  With a shaky hand, he gently pushed her hair out of her face—her silky, beautiful black hair, that he had longed to touch.  His thumb brushed against the scar under her right eye, and she turned towards him again.  “You’re beautiful.”  She blinked, but didn’t speak.  What had made him say that?!  The liquor!  He groaned internally.  He was _terrible_ at this.  He searched her eyes for anything, but he couldn’t read her.  He felt drawn to her, as if he was inching closer subconsciously.  His logic was fighting against his body, but his body was clearly in control.  Just a few more inches and his lips were on hers.  He pulled away and watched her eyes flutter open.  He still couldn’t read her, but she didn’t look shocked.  She didn’t look…anything.  _Come on, Mikasa.  Say something_.

                “I’m sorry,” she said finally.  “If I led you to believe that I…”  She averted her eyes and his heart jumped into his throat.  “You see, I…”  Her voice broke and she blinked away fresh tears.  “I can’t.”  She stood up suddenly.  “I need to go.”

                “Mikasa, wait.”  He hurried after her, reaching the door at the same time.  He stood between her and the exit.  “I don’t expect anything of you.  I know we’re all messed up.  None of us can expect to ever lead normal lives.  How _could_ we, after what _we’ve_ seen?  That’s assuming we all get out of this alive.”  He pressed his hands against the door.  “I just…needed to do that...just once.”  He paused, letting his arms fall at his sides.  She looked mortified, disappearing behind that red scarf.  “You stay; I’ll go.”  He exhaled a shaky breath, and then let himself out.

                _Fuck_.

                He clenched his fists and grit his teeth.  Within seconds, he was out the front door, marching off into the darkness.  Not too far.  Just out of sight.  “ _Fucking idiot_ ,” he growled, punching the trunk of a tree.  “You had a good thing.”  _Punch_.  “She was talking to you.”  _Punch_.  “She was your _friend_.”  _Punch_.  “And then you had to go—” _punch_ “and fuck it all up!”  He punched the tree with all his strength.  He breathed in sharply, pulling back his hand, which was now scraped and bleeding.  “ _Argh, son of a bitch_!”

                “Jean?”  He froze, clutching his bloodied fist with a shaky hand.  “Is that you?”  Footsteps closed in on him.  “What are you doing out—what—what happened to your hand?!”

                “Oh, hey, Armin,” he grumbled.

                Armin took a hold of his wrist, eyes wide as he examined Jean’s clenched fist.  “Are you okay?  What happened?”

                “Nothing,” Jean said, pulling his hand away.  He started walking back and Armin ran to catch up with him.

                “Did you get into a fight?” he asked.  “Tell me what happened!”

                “Armin, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said through gritted teeth.  Almost inside.  He reached for the doorknob, and yanked the door open.  He went straight to the washroom, thrusting his hand into the cold water.

                “I thought you’d be with Mikasa,” Armin said from the doorway.

                Jean stared ahead blankly.  “I was.”

                “Well, is…is she okay?” Armin stammered.  He gasped.  “You didn’t—?”

                Jean whirled around.  “Really, Armin?  Is that who you think I am?” he growled.  Armin blinked, shaking his head.  “I made a damn fool of myself.”  He wrapped a rag around his fist.  “And I hit a tree.”

                “Oh.”  Armin paused.  Awkward silence.  “Sorry.”  More awkward silence.  “I guess I’d better see how she’s doing.”

                Jean pursed his lips, watching him go.  He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling.  “Armin!  She’ll be glad to see you.  She was expecting you anyways.”  Armin nodded and disappeared up the stairs.  Jean sighed.  He could add Armin to the list of people to whom he owed apologies.

                Minutes later, he went to his own dormitory.  He opened the door and found Conny passed out.  Sasha, he was surprised to see, was next to him.  Both were half naked, with their arms wrapped around each other.  He blushed.  So, the two of them, huh?  He had wondered for a while if what was going on between them was really just friendship.  _Damn it_.  He rolled his eyes, heaved another sigh, and then backed out of the room.  He couldn’t go upstairs.  He would have to face Armin _and_ Mikasa, and he just couldn’t.  Not yet.  He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down.  He crossed his legs, folded his arms, and leaned back.  Sleep would come.  Eventually, sleep would come.  He nodded off, and visions of Marco, Eren, and Mikasa filled his dreams.

                He awoke with a start hours later.  The sun was just coming up.  He felt like shit.  He cracked his neck and stretched his back, working the kinks out.

                Conny shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and scratching himself.  “You look terrible,” he said, eyeing him.

                Jean glowered at him.  “Yeah?  Maybe because I spent the night in this chair.”

                Conny looked at him blearily.  “Huh?”

                Jean frowned, folding his arms.  “You and Sasha,” he said, raising his eyebrows.  “Ringing any bells?”

                Conny squeezed his eyes shut as his face instantly reddened.  After a moment, he chanced opening an eye.  “You weren’t supposed to see that.”  Jean rolled his eyes.  “You’re not going to tell the Captain, are you?  It’s kind of…frowned upon…fraternizing with comrades.  It’s not like it was planned or anything—it just kind of…happened.”  He swallowed.  “And then it happened again.”

                “I’m in a pretty bad mood,” Jean said.  “I _should_ tell Captain Levi.”

                Conny dropped to his knees, folding his hands.  “ _Please_ , Jean!  It won’t happen again, I promise!”

                “Tch.”  Jean shook his head.  “I don’t care _what_ you two do.  Just find somewhere else to do it.”

                Conny straightened up, relief washing over his face.  He pulled a chair out and sat down, lazily resting his chin on his hand.  “Man, was it wild,” Conny said dreamily.  “First up against the wall, then on my bed, then _your_ bed.”  Jean stared at him, frowning deeper and deeper as he spoke.  He made a mental note to never sleep in that bed again.  Then Conny’s dazed look was replaced by a sly smile.  “Have you ever…?”

                Jean’s breath caught in his throat and he knew his cheeks were turning red.  In his eighteen years, he had barely had the opportunity to kiss a girl, let alone have sex with one.  “None of your damn business,” he managed to get out.

                “Oh, come on,” Conny wheedled.  “Never?”  He leaned in closer and Jean instinctively folded his arms, putting up a barrier.  “Okay, but you must have at least _thought_ about it.”  Jean averted his eyes, resisting the urge to physically assault his comrade.  “Wait, are you still hung up on Mikasa?”  He put his hand on his forehead, backing off slightly.  “Oh, my god—still?!”

                “I said it’s none of your damn business!” Jean growled, just as Sasha and Mikasa entered the room, followed closely by Armin.

                “Oh, great,” Sasha groaned.  “Sounds like Jean’s in a foul mood again.”  She pinched his cheek as she walked by, and he swatted her hand away.  She put her hands on her hips, staring into the kitchen, then looked back at them.  “Thanks a lot, guys,” Sasha said.  “If you were up, you could have at _least_ started breakfast.”

                Jean eyed her, smiling maliciously.  “Oh, right.  You must be hungry.  Sounds like you worked up quite an appetite last night.”

                Her eyes widened and she looked from Jean to Conny, who shook his head and feigned ignorance.  Her cheeks turned an unnatural shade of red.  “Erm, no, I’m not that hungry,” she stammered as her stomach grumbled.  “I’ll get breakfast started for the rest of you.  How does that sound?” she asked sweetly, casting a nervous look at Jean as she walked.  He smirked, satisfied.

                “I’ll help,” Mikasa said, throwing on an apron.  She busied herself with chopping sausage, occasionally slapping Sasha’s hand away when she tried to sneak a bite.

                “This is the first meat I’ve had in months!” Sasha whined.  “At least let me have a few bites!”

                “You can wait until breakfast is ready,” Mikasa scolded.  “Unless you’d rather skip it entirely?” she said, eyeing her.  Sasha whimpered and went back to her pile of vegetables.

                Jean’s smirk disappeared as the memory of the previous night resurfaced.  He glanced at Armin, who had sat next to him.  “Hey, sorry for the way I acted last night.”  Armin simply smiled, waving a hand dismissively.  “Really, I wasn’t…I wasn’t exactly myself.”

                “Not important,” Armin said quickly.  “I get it.  We can forget it ever happened.”

                Jean frowned.  He was being awfully standoffish.  He exhaled.  “You know, don’t you?”  Armin bit his lip.  He didn’t have to speak; he had already revealed everything.  Jean tried to control his emotions.  He wanted to run out of there to escape the humiliation, but he knew that would only makes things worse.  He held his tongue and ate his breakfast in silence.  Mikasa stayed silent as well, which was normal for her.  He glanced at her once or twice, but each time her eyes were intently fixed on something else.  He was probably just imagining things, but he thought, at least once, that he seen her looking at him out of the corner of his eyes.  He tried to ignore it—it was just wishful thinking anyway—and finished his meal.

                “Who’s taking the next watch?” Mikasa said at length, halting Conny and Sasha’s utensil swordfight.

                “It’s my turn,” Conny piped up, setting his fork down.

                Jean stood up suddenly and threw his cloak on.  “I’ll take this watch.”  He didn’t mind.  Two consecutive watches would get him out of the house, and save him the humiliation.  Luckily Armin and Mikasa were closed books—at least outside of each other.  He headed outside to the tower.

                Hange climbed down to meet him.  “Hey!” she called, dropping down the last few feet.  “Another quiet night.  I don’t want to jinx it, but maybe they’re all gone.”

                “That or they’re off attacking another part of the wall,” he pointed out.

                She smirked.  “Ah, I can always count on you to yank me down to reality.”  She clapped a hand on his shoulder, smiling good-naturedly.  “Stay warm up there!”

                He climbed the watchtower ladder slowly, one hand over the other.  It was a cold day, made colder by the stiff wind that whipped against his skin.  He pulled his cloak closer around himself.  Like Hange said, it had been a few days without incident, but they had maintained vigilance.  They couldn’t afford to slack off.  After a few hours, it became difficult to keep his eyes open.  His hood wouldn’t stay on, because of the wind, so his face was burned and his eyes stung.  He wanted to shut them more than anything.

                “Jean,” came a soft voice.

                He was too tired to be very startled.  “I’ve got a few hours left,” he simply said.

                “Conny said you slept at the kitchen table.  You’re clearly too exhausted to be on watch.”  Her tone was nearly devoid of emotion.

                He shrugged.  “I’m fine.”

                She crossed her arms stubbornly.  “Okay.  Then I’ll stand watch with you.”  She took a step forward and leaned on the railing.

                “Mikasa,” he implored, setting his rifle down.

                She turned around.  “You’re putting all of us in danger.”  Her eyes were hard.  “If you fell asleep and a Titan showed up, we would have no warning.  You would be killed, and the rest of us would have to scramble to defend ourselves.”  Mikasa frowned.  “Why are you taking shifts you can’t handle, anyway?  Are you trying to avoid me because of what happened last night?”  His heart was in his throat, and he couldn’t speak.  Of course she was reading his mind.  He was an open book, he wore his heart on his sleeve.  She turned her gaze back to the horizon.  “I had too much to drink, and I said things…I didn’t mean.  Namely,” she began, taking a long pause, “what I said before you left.”  He couldn’t move; he was frozen.  Was she saying that…?  “Every time I get comfortable, people get taken away from me.  First my own parents, then the Jaegers, then Eren.”  She swallowed.  “Who’s next?  Armin?  You?”  She glanced at him.

                He stepped closer to her, finally finding his voice.  “It’s impossibly lucky that I’ve survived this long.  I’m weak…and I’m terrified most of the time.  Even after almost three years of being out here, I’m still scared out of my mind.”  He drew in a shivering breath.  “But I’m stubborn too, and I’m not going down without a fight.”  He paused, watching her.  Her hair whipped around, hiding her face, but her lip was trembling.  “But I am gonna die.  I’ve accepted that.”  His face softened.  “But you, Mikasa, you’re strong.  You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I have nothing but admiration for what you’ve accomplished.  You…you’re gonna see that ocean Armin’s always talking about.”

                “What good is seeing the ocean if no one’s there to see it with you?” she said bitterly, clenching her fists at her side.  “You joke about being dead tomorrow—you say you’ve accepted it as a reality.  Well, _I_ haven’t.”  She hugged him suddenly, around his middle, burying her face in his shoulder.  “Damn it—don’t die,” she said.

                After a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against hers.  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

                “You know,” she said at length, “you’re not bad at this.”

                As he held her in his arms, a hundred ideas popped into his head about what exactly he wasn’t bad at, but he simply said, “What?”

                She pulled away slightly, still holding onto his coat.  A small smile played on her lips and she said a little shyly, “Being good company.”


End file.
